margarita-stained lips and lies
by Gabby D
Summary: Joseph and Robert's story, from beginning to the bitter end. Or, how it all happened from Robert's point of view.


" _It was a pleasure to meet you, neighbour. Now I know I'm new here and we just met, but if you need to talk about anything, anything really, you can talk to me, alright Robert? I know your situation can't be easy, but you're not alone."_

…

He didn't know at first what Joseph's angle was.

The man was somehow always there, wherever Robert looked, with a warm smile and sincere voice. He would show up at his house with a plate of banana bread, or at his favorite bar and order a drink that didn't match the ambient, all while trying to invite Robert to the next cook-out saying dads should stick together. Why Joseph even bothered he would never be sure, Robert wasn't his friend and hell, he was barely even still a father, but the man never gave up.

And slowly - slowly - Robert warmed up to him.

Trapping himself in carefully maneuvered spiderwebs that he didn't even know Joseph planted there.

Joseph was never short of stories to break the ice, never let the situation become too awkward, be it from sea stories to what the twins did last week soon enough he had Robert laughing with him, filling the silence in such way that Robert didn't have the heart to be annoyed for it was simply too refreshing.

He also never fell for Robert's sense of humor, always calling him out and laughing at the absurds he would say, sometimes even playing along with words that truly shouldn't leave the mouth of a youth minister.

Robert felt like a lost soul desperate to be saved at every smile, every lingering touch on his arm, annoyed at both himself and the man who wouldn't go away.

When they end up sleeping together, both too drunk to make good decisions, Robert thought he finally figured out Joseph and what he wanted. An easy lay to take his mind away from a sham marriage, perhaps. He could be that to him. Make him forget everything for a night and end his usefulness to the man, end the cat and mouse chase they both pretended wasn't happening.

Yet he came back to him again and again and again, and it always ended the same way.

…

" _So, Robert, how exactly do we find and hunt a cryptid?"_

" _Why, interested?"_

...

Some days Robert would wake up alone; left naked in a bed, covered head to toe in proof of what they'd done the night before, abandoned to his own thoughts and the feeling of being used - of feeling dirty and cheap, feelings not far from the truth - and knowing exactly where Joseph had gone. Back to his missus, to a life of pretend, showing Robert exactly what he was to him: nothing but convenience. the truth about their little affair hitting him like thorns and eating him inside. In those days, Robert's mornings were filled with nothing but whiskey and a sense of self-loathing.

Nothing he didn't deserve, or didn't expect.

Some days though, he would wake up to kisses and the smell of breakfast being made. They would laugh and talk with just enough affection and domesticity to drown the outside world, to forget their realities and just _be_. Robert would smile, truly smile, and not be afraid to pull the other down for a kiss. Lazy mornings that always turned into good morning sex and a day full of companionship. Where he almost - almost - could say he was in love.

Somehow Robert always hated those days the most.

…

" _Mary is pregnant again, we're having our fourth child,"_ Joseph announced happily at a cook-out one day, not looking at him. _"We don't know the gender yet but Chris and the twins couldn't be more excited."_

Robert's congratulation was as empty as he felt.

...

Joseph invites every men in their cul-de-sac for a time of dad-bonding at his yacht one day, or so he had explained. No children or spouses, just seven friends having fun together exchanging puns and grilling tips while relaxing at the sea. Robert didn't even think twice before accepting the invitation, all the hesitation he once had about the group left behind long ago.

So much that his once lifetime armor, the leather jacket he loved so much and used to shield himself from the world, wasn't present. Robert felt no need to protect himself, no tingly suspicion down his neck.

When he accidentally spills beer on his shirt none of the others seemed to notice as he and Joseph go inside to clean it up and get him something to wear, shrugging them off as Hugo continued his rant. They didn't seem to notice how long it took them to get back either, or that suddenly their lips were red and swollen.

The secrecy both turning him on and killing him.

But when Joseph was throwing him against the wall of his cabin, kissing his neck and whispering sweet nothings and blasphemies, it was easy to forget their reality. That Joseph wasn't his nor wanted to be, that it was a fucked up situation wrapped around a failed marriage and a filthy affair. He should be angry at him, he knew. Joseph was so easy to love though, when Robert was down on his knees, that to remember all that was simply not worth it.

So they go back to the deck, freshly fucked, and act like nothing happened. And if Robert could describe happiness, in that moment, it would be a blue sweater that didn't belong to him and the warmth of the sun against his skin as he traded jokes with men he never once thought would be his friends, Joseph's hand never leaving his back.

Looking back now he wonders if there was ever any difference between Joseph and the alcohol and drugs that he used to cloud his mind. All were addictive in the same way that Robert couldn't help but self-destruct with a smile on his face.

…

" _I'm leaving Mary,"_ Joseph told him, his voice barely a whisper against his neck as they laid naked on the bed of his yacht. _"I can't take it anymore, it's not right to either of us. I want more, we both deserve more. You deserve more. I will talk to her when I go back home and we can share the custody of the kids, I won't abandon them, but I can't continue like this."_

Robert knew it had to be a lie. He knew better.

And yet.

Yet.

" _I love you, Rob."_

He fell all the same, his skepticism drowned by margarita-stained lips and lies.

…

The moment Robert stepped inside Joseph's house he knew something was off about it.

When the man had invited him saying he had talked with Mary and he needed him, he had tried to not get his hopes up too much. Still, Robert had gone out of his way to pick up some fruity booze, having gotten used to the taste after spending so much time with the other, trying his best to not think of the implications of it all. To think of what this meant for them in the future.

But when he got there Joseph wouldn't look him in the eyes for too long; the atmosphere awkward and stiff, so different from all their times together. _The talk with Mary wasn't easy, then,_ he thought, wondering if he would spend the night consoling Joseph instead of celebrating. Robert wasn't disappointed, really, he already suspected that would be the case. Divorce was always messy. That didn't stop him from feeling bad from wishing otherwise, but he tried to tell himself it was for the best and he wasn't selfish for it.

It didn't work, but at least he always knew he was a bad person, no world shattering surprise there.

"Robert, hey! Come on in, please, sit down," Joseph had tried awkwardly, playing host like he would to anyone else, fake smile on his face. "Mary took the kids to eat pizza… I think. I'm not entirely sure. She said she'd bring back a slice for me so I hope she meant pizza!"

 _Staying friendly, then? Or just pretending to?_

"I can't imagine she took it that well." Truth to be told, he really couldn't. "Are you alright?"

"Straightforward as always, huh? Yeah, it wasn't that easy. She yelled then she cried then she yelled some more. We talked for what felt like hours after that until we came to a conclusion together."

Robert had a bad feeling about it, but tried to ignore it the best he could. Stupid. _Stupid._

"Divorce always goes like that, I suppose. Not that I would know."

A pause, then another.

"Yeah, about that…"

No.

"Rob, it's—it's complicated, this whole thing with Mary. I didn't mean to drag you in the middle of all this mess or make you think that... I never meant to hurt you, Robert, I swear. What I did wasn't right."

 _No!_

"Say what you mean, Joseph."

"Mary and I, we decided to stay together and try again. I'm—I'm sorry, Robert, I shouldn't have made you hope for more than I could give. I'll never forget the moments we've shared together. But I love my wife and I… no, _we_ want to make this work. I can't let this chance pass by, do you understand? I can't."

Robert didn't. The sound of Joseph's words muffled and indistinct as Robert lost focus of what happened around him, too busy with the feeling of the ground shattering under him.

When he came back to himself he yelled, called Joseph a liar, told him he was just trying to keep his perfect image of a perfect family intact. Accused him of never even thinking of getting a divorce in the first place. Robert vaguely remembers kicking something - a table, maybe? - but the memory is too hazy now. All while Joseph kept his goody two-shoes speech, telling him that it was a mistake from the start and he shouldn't have let it go as far as it went. _Shouldn't have let Robert as close as he did,_ he didn't need to say.That he had been, simply put, too lonely to say no.

 _A mistake, a mistake, a mistake._

"I hope that even after all this we can still be friends?" Joseph asked, his voice sincere and his eyes anything but, telling him everything he needed to know before answering.

 _Of course he never had a real shot, after all._

"Go to hell."

…

He drowns himself in booze after that, days only a blur passing by without him noticing in ways that hadn't happened ever since Marilyn died years and years ago. His habits get worse, so do his self-loathing. He should've known better. Robert didn't deserve a good ending, he was still the same piece of shit and the only person worse than him was Joseph.

Robert hadn't changed, really, he hadn't even tried to change. It had been nothing but a delusion.

He would be never dirt-free.

...

He's at _Jim's and Kim's_ one day when Joseph's wife enters the bar, clearly already tipsy enough on her own but not letting it stop her. They spotted each other instantly, and only then Robert noticed how little he knew of her.

He'd heard so much about the children and Joseph himself but rarely ever something about Mary. Robert didn't really know Joseph's wife besides a few pleasantries and sometimes, when he could get past his blind jealousy, the respect he had for her whenever she raised her always there glass of wine at one of his comments. _That's a fine strong woman_ , he remembers thinking when they met, before the mess had started.

She sits down next to him quietly and orders the same as him.

"He told me about you, you know," Mary says unprompted after a few minutes of comfortable silence. "Said you propositioned to him a few times, that he denied until he couldn't anymore but that it was over. An one night stand." Though her voice was apathetic Robert could see the fire in her eyes. "That he felt too guilty."

It was a punch in the gut.

Robert didn't know what he expected. Of course what they had was diminished, of course he was blamed. It was Joseph's words, the words of a proud father and youth minister, against his. Some old drunk. He should've seen it coming. Yet it still hurt all the same.

"He—"

"I know my husband enough to tell when he's bullshitting me," she interrupts before he could, what? Defend himself? Agree? He isn't sure. "I acted like I bought it anyway. Too much of a bother to do otherwise, he probably believes the shit he's saying."

They both take a shot of their whiskey, letting the burn going down their throat mellow away the melancholic thoughts.

"Why don't you leave him?" Robert asks, finally. Though they barely knew each other he could tell Mary deserved better, unlike him. She's strong but she didn't have to stay and take it. She wasn't the bad guy, she wasn't a bad mother or wife.

"Why didn't you?"

They resumed their drinking, admitting, without words being necessary, that the short question had been enough answer and a truce had been settled.

Both had the same reason, after all, and they were both tired.

So they both deal with Joseph's betrayal, growing close to each other, more and more protective, an odd friendship being formed as they cope; Robert by sleeping with any man that came in his way, never calling any back, and Mary by hunting man after man speaking the same lines once upon a time she used on her husband, never being able to take it further and get even, though she could taste the sick sensation of revenge still.

They both would be painted as the villains anyway so why not play their roles?


End file.
